Chapter 159: Wednesday's First Match
"...?"
Severus Snape looked puzzled.
Was Russell the strange one—or was he?
If the Shield Charm were that easy to break, it might as well be called a Paper Charm.
Still, Snape thought about it carefully. In theory, when two wizards were roughly equal in skill, Sectumsempra should at least be able to damage an Shield Charm.
But he had never personally tested that scenario.
In real combat, spells like Stupefy or even the Avada Kedavra were far more efficient than Sectumsempra.
Sectumsempra created wounds like deep cuts from a blade. Worse still, aside from its specific counter-curse, the injuries it caused were almost impossible to heal by normal means.
However, unless it struck the neck or head, the spell wasn't always immediately fatal.
Like many dark spells, its primary purpose was torture.
That said, its power wasn't weak either. A normal Shield Charm could block moderate curses or hexes, but powerful dark spells like Confringo would smash through it easily.
Compared purely by destructive force, however, Sectumsempra was still far weaker than Confringo.
Its greatest advantage was stealth.
When cast, it produced almost no visible or audible sign—leaving many opponents with no time to react.
After thinking for a moment, Snape asked suspiciously,
"Where exactly did you encounter a wizard capable of casting the Shield Charm?"
He frowned slightly.
"You didn't try using Sectumsempra while sparring with Cedric Diggory… did you?"
The idea sounded absurd even to him.
"Of course not," Russell said immediately. "I've just been practicing by myself."
He spoke seriously.
"I just feel that peace in the wizarding world won't last forever."
Snape fell silent for a moment.
Then he said quietly,
"Do not rely too heavily on that spell, Fythorne. That is my advice."
After all, the spell had originally been invented for inflicting suffering, not for maximum lethality.
If killing power had been the goal, it would have been designed to cut a person clean in half.
"Understood, Professor."
Although Russell was slightly disappointed that Snape hadn't given him a definitive answer, he still had another way to investigate.
---
Later that day, Russell opened his enchanted diary.
"That spell is rather vicious," the figure inside the diary remarked with interest.
"It's almost like a torture device."
"Does it have a counter-curse?"
"Yes," Russell replied.
He wrote down the counter-spell—Vulnera Sanentur—for Morgan to examine.
After studying it for a while, Morgan said,
"Comparing it with the Shield Charm you showed me earlier… I'd say that with its current power, it's unlikely to break through the shield."
Then her tone changed.
"However…"
"However what?" Russell asked quickly.
"I could improve it somewhat. Strengthen its destructive power."
"But naturally, that would increase the magical cost as well."
Russell's eyes lit up.
"Teacher, do you think it would be possible to attach this spell to a wand… and form something like an invisible sword?"
"A blade made entirely of magic."
"I'll try," Morgan replied.
Then the diary fell silent again.
Russell happily closed the notebook and tucked it away.
After all—
Who doesn't dream of being a magic swordsman?
Whether it was practical or not didn't matter.
The important question was only one:
Did it look cool?
---
Wednesday's First Match
When Harry Phurried back to Ron and Hermione, Ron was already halfway through a pumpkin pie, crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth.
"Did you get the book back?" Ron asked, still chewing. "What happened just now?"
Harry lowered his voice and quickly described everything he had glimpsed outside the staff room. Hermione's thick book slipped from her lap and thudded onto the floor.
"That proves it," Harry said, breathing hard, as if he had just flown ten laps around the Quidditch pitch.
"On Halloween night he was heading for Fluffy! When we saw him, he was about to sneak past that three-headed dog!"
He ran a hand through his already messy black hair.
"I'd bet this year's Quidditch Cup on it—the troll was let in by him! Just to cause chaos and distract everyone!"
"That's impossible!" Hermione slammed her hand on the long table. "Even if Professor Severus Snape can be… unpleasant at times, he would never steal something Albus Dumbledore hid away!"
"Oh, come on," Ron said, snapping a licorice wand in half. He didn't even notice the crumbs scattering across his robes.
"You always act like professors can't even blow their noses without casting a cleaning charm. If you ask me, Harry's probably right. But what exactly is that big brute guarding? What treasure could be valuable enough for a Potions professor to risk sneaking around in the middle of the night?"
---
The next morning dawned clear and bitterly cold.
The Great Hall smelled wonderfully of grilled sausages, and everyone buzzed with excitement, eagerly chatting about the upcoming Quidditch match.
Harry, however, was a bundle of nerves.
Even though the table was piled high with foods he normally loved, he had absolutely no appetite.
"Try to eat something, Harry," Ron urged beside him. "Otherwise you won't have any energy later."
"I'm fine… I'm not hungry," Harry said with a strained smile, shaking his head.
His stomach felt so tight with nerves that he couldn't imagine swallowing a single bite.
Wednesday, on the other hand, was in far better condition. At the very least, her appetite hadn't been affected in the slightest.
Of course, that might have had something to do with Russell visiting the kitchen the night before and asking the house-elves to prepare all of Wednesday's favorite dishes.
"You'll do great out there," said Cedric Diggory encouragingly.
Beside him, Cho Chang nodded and added her support.
Although they belonged to different houses, neither of them had a match scheduled that day. Around their table—aside from the Weasley twins—there were hardly any Gryffindor students.
Hermione used to join them frequently, but after reconciling with Harry and Ron, she visited less and less.
It was understandable. Friendships within the same house naturally grew faster than those with students from other houses.
Friendships like the one between Russell and Cedric were rare.
---
"When the match starts, just focus on smashing the Bludger toward Gryffindor's Seeker," Russell said casually.
"As for protecting your teammates, leave that to the other Beater."
He paused.
"By the way… who is the other Beater again?"
"Cyrian," Wednesday replied calmly, as though their earlier conflicts had never existed.
"Ah, him."
Russell raised an eyebrow.
"Wasn't he replaced by you earlier? Looks like he used some connections to push someone else out and reclaim a spot."
He clearly had little respect for that kind of behavior.
"I'm done eating."
Wednesday placed her utensils neatly on the table, wiped her mouth, grabbed her broom, and hurried toward the locker room.
---
By eleven o'clock, it seemed as though the entire school had gathered around the Quidditch stadium.
Students packed the towering stands, many carrying binoculars. The seats had been magically raised high into the air, yet even then it could sometimes be hard to follow the match clearly.
Russell, Cedric, and Cho climbed to the very top row of the stands.
Earlier, they had seen Ron and Hermione making a banner for Harry.
So Russell decided he might as well make one for Wednesday as well.